Tear Me To Pieces

Peter hadn’t really thought about what he was doing. It was an impulsive decision to leave the compound, something he normally wouldn’t do. He had an image in his head of this guy with evil intentions, accelerating through a red light into the side of some poor woman and her nephews car. It made his stomach turn and he felt anger pulse through him, all the way to the tips of his fingers.

Peter couldn’t help but think again about what Wanda had told him, and he thought about the anger she must have felt. He figured that he was feeling something similar.

Peter stopped on top of a building, giving himself a view of the city and the sunset. He was surprised that nobody had called him yet, he had expected to have the avengers on his back the minute he stepped foot off the compound property, but it had been close to two hours and nobody had contacted him.

Peter took a seat at the edge of the building, swinging his feet over. He watched the busy street below, the bustle of people heading home from work, and thought about how at one time, that had been May heading home to him. The thought made Peters chest hurt, and his eyes stung. He looked up from the scenery below, tilting his head back to look at the clear, darkening sky.

He spotted a little figure in the sky, seemingly coming toward him. Peter furrowed his eyebrows, staring at it as it got closer.

“Hey Karen, what is that?”

A small screen popped up in Peters suit, enhancing his view.

“That seems to be Mr. Stark in his Iron Man suit.”

“Oh shit.”

Peter quickly got to his feet, brushing himself off as Tony got closer. He felt the fleeting urge to run away, but he knew that Tony could easily track his suit and would be able to catch him regardless.

The second Tony landed across the rooftop his suit opened up, and he stepped out. He crossed the space quickly, approaching Peter with obvious exasperation.

“Peter, what are you doing?” Tony shook his head, disappointment was coming off of Tony in waves, and Peter could feel it.

Peter reached up, pulling his mask off. “What do you mean? I’m just being Spider-Man.” He said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as if there was nothing out of the ordinary. He of course knew exactly what Tony was hinting at, but Peter chose to play the stupid card.

Tony sighed, looking at Peter with sympathetic eyes. It made Peter want to throw a fit. He was sick of getting everybody’s sympathy, he no longer wanted any of it.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Peter scoffed, briefly looking away. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about Mr. Stark.”

“Peter, I know you’re going through a rough patch but-“

Peter groaned, cutting Tony off. He looked at Tony with the most unimpressed expression he could muster, and he spoke. “No, I don’t want to hear it. I get it, you think I’m struggling and you want to offer your sympathy. Don’t, please, just stop with the sympathy. I’m doing fine on my own.”

Tony’s face grew concerned, and he took another step forward. He was close enough to reach out and grab Peter if he needed to, so Peter took a step back.

“Pete, I don’t think you are.”

Peter wanted to stomp his feet and cry like a little kid. He felt anger and sadness and hurt bubbling up inside him and he had no idea where to project it all, so he did the only thing he knew how to do in that moment, he argued.

“Mr. Stark, just let me figure it out on my own.” Peters voice had an edge to it, threatening to spill all of his inner emotions out.

“You can’t be this reckless without thinking about the repercussions.”

“Yes! I can! You didn’t just lose the last person who ever loved you, alright? I did! I’m allowed to feel a little remorse!”

“Yes, Peter, you are but..I know how you feel, and it’s not the end of the world. It gets better, I promise you.” Tony’s voice was sad, his eyes still filled with concern. He stepped forward again, this time lifting his hand to place it on Peters shoulder.

Peter smacked it away, taking two steps back and feeling nothing but triumph at Tony’s shocked expression.

“I don’t care, Mr. Stark. I know it gets better, I lost my parents and I lost my uncle, I’ve been through it before. The difference is that during those times I didn’t think I could do anything. This time I know I can, and I’m going to, whether or not you like it.”

Tony sighed, contemplating his next words.

“Peter just come back to the compound, please, let me talk to you. What you’re feeling, the hurt and the anger, the betrayal? The Avengers have all been through it. I’ve been through it. I know what you’re going through and I know how it feels to want revenge. Pete, I was ready to kill Bucky over what he did to my parents, but I didn’t, and I learned something from it. I know what its like to want to hurt the person responsible. I know, Peter, I-“

Peter cut him off, his blood boiling. “Would you stop comparing me to you?! For one second could you stop acting like the entire world revolves around you? Cause it doesn’t. Just because you think you know how I’m feeling right now, you think you can fix it. You comparing my loss to yours doesn’t make mine any fucking easier.” Peters chest rose and fell, his breath heavy. He felt as though the anger that had been growing in him all along was finally bursting out of him like steam from a boiling kettle.

Tony’s expression had gone cold, his eyes flashed dangerously.

“We don’t trade lives Peter.”

“No, you don’t, but maybe I will.”

“Come back to the compound with me.” Tony instructed. He felt like he was starting to lose control of the situation.

Peter shook his head, taking a few more steps backward.

“If you go after that guy, if you hurt him..the minute you lay a finger on him you won’t be welcome in the compound.”

Peter shrugged heartlessly, opting to say nothing.

“If you kill him...” Tony trailed off, and Peter thought he might have momentarily seen tears brimming in Tony’s eyes. It almost made him crumple, but he stood tall.

“If you kill him you will no longer have a family to come home to.”

Peter shrugged, “I didn’t have one to begin with.”

Peter turned away, extending his arm to shoot a web across to the next building. He jumped off, swinging himself into the air and leaving Tony alone on the roof behind him.

Peter kept going until he knew he was a safe distance away, and once he knew that he was, he stopped on another building top. The sky was finally dark, and Peter sat down, feeling the overwhelming urge to cry.

He didn’t want to leave things that way between himself and Tony, but he felt he had no choice. If he left the situation untouched then he would feel that May had died in vain, which he couldn’t bare the thought of. The man who caused it, he needed to pay for what he’d done, and Peter wouldn’t rest until he felt he had completed his task.

Peter sat quietly on the roof for longer than he cared to keep track of, wiping away unnecessary tears. Eventually, he found the strength to stand up, and he pulled his mask over his head once again, ignoring Karen’s usual “Hello, Peter.” and he continued on his way.

Instead of going to Brooklyn, Peter went to his former apartment in Queens. He snuck in through the living room window, into an apartment that he had once called his own. To Peters dismay, nearly the entire house was packed away in boxes. They were piled all around the main area, and Peter slunk down the hallway toward his old room.

He pushed the door open, revealing an empty room, his bunk beds were gone, and all his things had been packed away. Boxes covered the majority of the room, and Peter swore he felt his heart drop. Peter left the room, moving toward his aunts old room. When he stepped inside he saw the bed still there, though it sat with only one pillow and a blanket folded atop the sheet-less mattress, and Peter was relieved that a few things of theirs still remained. As Peter did his rounds in the apartment, he felt sorrow gripping at his heart. It was difficult for him to see the house so empty. All of their photographs were gone, his childhood works of art that had been stuck on the fridge. The apartment was pretty much void of any reminder that his aunt had lived there, and Peter attempted to fight the sense of despair he felt. He sulked back down the hallway and into Mays old room. He switched the light off as he entered, throwing the room into darkness other than the city lights that shone through the window. Peter grabbed the blanket on the bed, unfolding it halfheartedly and crawling onto the bed. He pulled the blanket over himself, laying with half his face pressed into the last remaining pillow. Peter vaguely recognized the smell of Mays perfume absorbed in the pillow, and he felt tears push their way out of his eyes.

Peter sniffled weakly, pulling the blanket up to his chin. He thought about the last few weeks, and about what he had said to Tony. Peter started to cry harder, unable to control himself.

“I miss you May.” Peter said weakly, his words dying off into the sobs that fought their way out of Peters body. Peter fought to keep his breath soft, but he could feel himself losing the rhythm as his eyes lost focus somewhere in his tears.

Peter desperately wanted somebody to hold onto, and he thought about how Tony would have told him over and over that it would be okay. Peter let himself go, crying out into the darkness around him for nobody in particular. Every now and then he found himself whispering “I’m sorry.” And he wasn’t quite sure why.

Peter cried for what felt like ages, until he couldn’t breathe anymore and he was drowning in his own hurt. Eventually, though, he stopped.

+

Tony didn’t sleep that night. He spent hours tossing and turning, and found himself accidentally waking Pepper constantly. His eyes flicked to and from the clock until finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He decided it was time to get up, whether or not his body desperately yearned for sleep. His mind had chosen to stay awake.

He carried himself through the compound, his clocks read something close to three in the morning. Tony kept playing the events of that evening on loop in his head. He would never forget the look on Peters face as he turned away, it was as if any past emotion had never lived in Peters eyes. He had held this careless, almost lifeless expression. Tony had determined it would haunt him forever, and he didn’t want to live with that.

Tony stepped into the dark kitchen, the room was vacant due to the hour.

“FRIDAY, locate Peter Parker for me.” Tony requested, he puttered around, placing dirty dishes that had been left on the counter into the dishwasher.

“It looks like he’s at May Parker’s apartment.” FRIDAY reported, and Tony sighed. He had assumed Peter would go there, he didn’t have any other options. His friends parents would only ask questions, and Tony had made it very clear that Peter wasn’t welcome at the compound.

He felt guilt cloud his head and he leaned against the counter, bracing himself for what felt like a small panic attack creeping up on him. Tony closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. He was worried about Peter, he was only a kid and Tony had practically kicked him out of his only real home.

Tony heard shuffling and he opened his eyes as the kitchen light flicked on, revealing Pepper in the door way. She was wrapped in her robe and she had her arms crossed, her eyes were worried.

“Hey,” She greeted softly, taking a few steps toward Tony. She reached out, placing her hand on top of his, instantly calming him.

“Talk to me, Tony. Let me help.”

Tony felt the smallest amount of tears in his eyes, which surprised Pepper, as she rarely saw Tony cry.

“I lost the kid.” He said helplessly, looking up to meet Peppers eyes.

She shook her head, denying Tony’s statement. “No, you didn’t lose him. He’s still out there Tony.”

Tony sighed sadly, “I lost him Pep, I told him he’s not welcome back at the compound. I kicked a fifteen year old boy out on his ass after his aunt died. I really screwed it up.”

“You’re giving up too easily. You had a fight, so what? Kids are stubborn, they argue and they say things they don’t mean. Do you honestly think Peter’s never going to speak to you again?”

Tony frowned. He didn’t think that, not really, but he knew Peter wouldn’t stop until something was done. Tony knew if he got involved again it would only make matters worse. Peter had his mind made up, and Tony knew he wouldn’t budge until he was forced to.

“I think that he won’t speak to me unless he has to.” Tony explained honestly, feeling less than in control.

“Tony, you’re Iron Man for gods sake, and this is just a fifteen year old boy. You can’t just give up like that, I won’t let you.”

Pepper grabbed Tony’s hand, holding it in hers.

“He’ll come around. He won’t do anything you wouldn’t do.”

Tony shrugged, “He also won’t do anything I would do.”

Pepper chuckled, smiling at Tony. “That’s probably for the best.”

Tony smiled back, feeling a small amount of weight lifted off his shoulders momentarily.

“You’d make a great mother Ms. Potts.”

Pepper scoffed, her smile growing wider. “Shut up.”

Tony let go of the counter, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in for a chaste kiss. She smiled still, and he spoke.

“Thank you.”

“Will that be all, Mr. Stark?” She joked, laughing when Tony rolled his eyes.

“That will be all.”

Pepper pulled away, leaving her hand in Tony’s. “Just be patient, alright? He’ll come around.”

“Yeah.” Tony hummed, nodding his head thoughtfully. “He will.”